These words were originally penned on January 4th, scrawled onto a yellow legal pad as I felt the floodgates open and words begin to bubble up like a spring. Then fear, and false humility, and a little bit of arrogance kept them on the paper. With strong encouragement by those who absolutely know me best, I’m taking a step of faith…and obedience… and finally breathing life into them. So here we are, again, starting back at the beginning. 

All of last year, I felt “trapped in my head.”

When I wanted to write, I couldn’t. When I’d open my blog or Instagram account – nothing came. I felt sad, clouded, discouraged, and if I’m being truly honest – sometimes disgusted with myself at my inability to produce words.

At the beginning of this month, I was struggling to put my goals for 2017 on to paper, or to even truly narrow down my lists to strategic goals. I felt dysfunctional, like my brain and my heart weren’t communicating.

But today – 4 days after January 1st, on it’s own timing, not perfect or controlled or forced by me – the Lord spoke. And He made himself known to me in a sweet, deep way. And in a way, He unlocked the silence.

2016 felt heavy. All year I didn’t feel like myself. I felt dim and clouded and completely dry. No words. I felt like Zechariah – completely mute. There was this veil over my heart and mind, and tons of BIG feelings with no words in 2016.

Here we are at the start of 2017 – after the 1st of the month. After the 1st of the year. An imperfect arrival for this impatient planner… I feel now, all of a sudden, as if the fog has been lifted. Words came back, my eyes became clear, that dark cloud that followed me everywhere gained some distance. Today, I feel like I’ve been given the freedom to become unlocked, in a way, and to become introspective. Like I’ve been given this elusive and exclusive invitation to know myself more. To truly get to know the real me. I’m excited and scared by that. Terrified, really. Yet full of courage, because it feels so much better than the frustrating rain cloud I lived in in 2016.

And as I poured down words into my journal trying to capture all that the Lord had just revealed to me at 2pm on a Tuesday at work, I felt a flow of coherent sentences and purpose and introspection. And as I smiled and breathed deeply for the first time in what felt like a year, I penned the words:

“And Lord, I want to write, again.”

And as I sprawled these words down on a yellow legal pad initially, I felt that I would. I will write, with reserve, and I’ll get it down, when I can, where I can, almost a little fearful that if I don’t put down that the Lord will dry me up again – press mute on my ability and desire to write and articulate…


I’m grateful. I have no idea what is in store. But for now I am grateful, for this and these words. I know that God is good. There was purpose in Zechariah’s season of muteness. And there was purpose in mine. And should it come again, there is purpose and fruit in that. But for now, this new year, this new freedom I feel bubbling up again from inside… the pen meets the paper and the words don’t cease to flow and I’m writing…again.

2 replies on “Writing… Again

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